


60. tiny stories in between

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [148]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 02:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8648230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: Anonymous asked: could you please write sarah and helena napping drabble





	

When Sarah wakes up, her head is on Helena’s chest and Helena’s hand has settled on the back of Sarah’s skull, absentmindedly, like it isn’t quite sure what to do now that it’s gotten there. Sarah barely remembers why they’re here, why Helena’s fingers are woven into Sarah’s hair – but she can hear the familiar street-sounds outside, and it’s easy enough to remember. They’d crashed here, in Sarah's bed - dead tired, Sarah too exhausted to even think of sorting out where Helena should sleep. Here. Of course it’s here.

“What time is it,” she croaks.

“I don’t know,” Helena says. She sounds faintly baffled that Sarah would even think she knows.

“Think my phone’s on the table,” Sarah says, but she makes no move to get it. The moment where she could check the time happens, and passes, and then it’s gone. “Can’t remember the last time I slept,” she says. “Like – slept, not – some fever dream nightmare shite.”

Helena makes a humming noise but doesn’t answer. Her fingers are moving – barely, but moving – through Sarah’s hair. It isn’t until Helena’s breathing starts rocking her chest underneath Sarah, up and down, that Sarah realizes Helena was holding her breath. Makes her sad. She closes her eyes so she’s nothing but the sound of her sister’s heartbeat under her ear and the feeling of Helena’s fingertips just barely brushing through her hair. _It’s fine_ , she wants to say, _it’s all alright_ , but she’s too tired.

“Are you asleep again,” Helena whispers.

“Yeah,” Sarah says, and Helena lets out a startled little huff of a laugh.

“Sarah,” she whispers, louder now, “you are sleep-speaking.”

“Sure am.” Sarah can’t think of anything more interesting than that to say, some story to tell Helena to make her laugh. It would probably be nice if Helena laughed. It would probably mean something good for Helena, and for the both of them.

But Helena isn’t laughing: she’s humming something under her breath, quiet enough that Sarah can almost miss it. But she doesn’t. “What’s that,” she asks.

“A song for sleeping,” Helena says. “I sang it to my baby before. Sometimes I used to sing it to myself. Also.” She murmurs a few words, but Sarah doesn’t know them. Ukrainian.

“What’s it mean.”

“Sleep and Dream are wandering,” Helena says. “They are lonely, and they want to go home. So they look in the window and see a child and say: we will help this child, and this will be home for us. And so they rock the child to sleep. Sleep, little falcon. Sleep, little dove.

“Sometimes,” she says with false lightness, “I used to pretend I was one of them. Sometimes I was the baby. It’s a nice story. No one ends it alone.”

“How’s it go?” Sarah murmurs drowsily. Helena sings her a few lines, and Sarah parrots them back. _Spaty, spaty, sokol'yatko. Spaty, spaty, holubyatko_.

“You can go to sleep too,” she says. “It’s alright. You can be the kid, if you want.” Part of her brain says _this makes no sense_ , but all the tired parts of her know exactly what it means. Helena is easier to understand when Sarah is partway to dreaming. All the hurting parts of her make more sense.

“I don’t need to sleep,” Helena says, and for the first time in this conversation Sarah wishes she could see her face.

“It’s alright,” she says again, more insistently. Helena sighs, low and long, and her hand stops moving through Sarah’s hair.

“Okay,” she says, voice bruised and hopeful. “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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